Innocence is bliss

Twelve young people volunteered to spend their holidays living in an open centre to organise a summer camp for refugee children. Christian Peregin paid them a visit on their third week, to learn more about their unique experience.

After assembly, the children burst out of the house filled with energy and jump on the backs of the animators who have prepared a morning of fun activities.

There are smiles all round, and in between bouts of laughter, the children speak in fluent Maltese, interacting comfortably with each other.

One is barely four years old, but knows how to get attention. He rolls up his sleeves, tenses his facial muscles, and stands in a military stance. When everyone looks at him, he cracks a smile and sniggers innocently.

He is one of tens of refugee children taking part in a summer camp organised by a group of Maltese youngsters aged between 18 and 26.

The house is actually part of the open centre at Ħal Far. It overlooks Tent City and the detention centre. The volunteers are helping out on their own steam. But as soon as they are asked how they are feeling they admit to being "burnt out" and tired.

Every day they wake up early in the morning and board a coach, which drives them around various towns and villages to pick up the children from their homes or other open centres.

The coach brings them to Ħal Far, where they spend the day playing games, learning crafts and having a blast.

The children seem to love to misbehave and challenge their superiors, but the volunteers are quick to discipline them. One of the animators says that they do not report misbehaviour to the parents because some of them are known to get aggressive.

Danica Falzon, one of the volunteers, points to the legs of a four-year old fooling around. They are covered in what seem to be cigarette burns. Another boy, sporting a black eye, approaches us to probe who we were.

"Many of them come from very disadvantaged families. Here we try to show them a good time, give them something to do and make their lives a bit better. When they are here they are completely carefree," Ms Falzon says.

The atmosphere is typical of a summer-school classroom, full of rowdy, over-enthusiastic children, laughing and teasing each other playfully, while the animators try to organise them into playing a game.

When the game starts, the children divide into their teams and participate excitedly, some being more competitive than others.

"It was harder than I thought it would be. Originally, when we said we would do voluntary work, we were told we would have a house to organise the activities in. But the house wasn't given to us so we had to find an alternative," Ms Falzon explains.

"It's strange to be living in an open centre. To start with I was afraid, not because I would miss home comforts, but because I felt that I was invading their space. They consider this to be their home, I was afraid they would not accept us."

Another volunteer, Bernice Ebejer said that before this experience she used to see refugees as simply a burden on Malta's resources.

"But as soon as I came here I started to see the human side to it. These children have the same needs as us. They especially need love."

A few days ago, the children were taken to a beach for the day. The volunteers were impressed at how quickly they interacted with Maltese children.

"They started playing in the sand together, and the Maltese kids lent them their spades and buckets," Ms Falzon explained. One girl, however, was uncomfortable with the idea of going to the beach.

"She told me that everyone will stare at them because they are black."

The children are conscious of their skin colour. Since they come from different parts of Africa, the darkness of their skin varies, and this sometimes becomes the subject of taunts among some of them.

But not all the children are African. Some Kurdish refugees also attend, and they seem to fit in easily with the rest of the group.

When I asked one of the children where he was from he looked up innocently and said "Sliema".

Many of them attend Maltese schools and are integrating into the culture. In typical Maltese fashion they joke about winning a "weekend break" at Ħal Far open centre as one of the prizes.

"The children are amazing, and really know how to have fun, but some have passed through horrific experiences to get here. Some are still waiting for one of their parents to come by boat," Ms Ebejer says.

One young boy sits alone stroking a piece of wood with a paintbrush lethargically - he seems to be miles away. Suddenly a water balloon explodes at his feet, and with a smile erupting on his face he rejoins the rest of his friends and his heavy thoughts are replaced by rapturous laughter.

cperegin@timesofmalta.com